Free The Runaway Bride - A Captive Flame Book One by Ashley Spector Page A

you got ready so quickly.” I blushed—and wondered what had
happened to me in the last twenty-four hours. I was used to saying
exactly what I thought and not caring whether people approved of my
actions or not. Somehow, after the punishment and discipline that
Krystopher had given me, along with the mind-warping experience of
being attached to someone of great wealth, I found myself not only
suddenly shy, but eager to please the man who had done so much to
me and for me.
     
    When we arrived at
the office—just one of a half dozen that Krystopher owned,
scattered around the world—I was stricken once more by the sheer
deference that was paid to the billionaire who had taken me on. He
brought me to the security section first, vouching for me—claiming
that I was a new business partner that he was trying to woo. The
security guards quickly got me an ID and security clearance, and
Krystopher whisked me away once more, barely paying the attentive
guards any attention. There was a visible effect whenever he
entered a room; everyone tensed, pausing in their business but
trying to look like they were busy at the same time. There was a
sense of power that radiated from Krystopher—a kind of authority
that I was used to only seeing from kings and other heads of state.
I almost thought as we made our way through various departments,
that if Krystopher told one of his employees to jump through a
window, that employee might actually do it.
     
    Krystopher spun a
terrific story, explaining me away to his sycophantic staff as an
associate that he had run into during his business trip. “She’s a
long-time friend, and when I discovered that she’s looking for new
opportunities, I suggested she come and tour the office with me,
find out more about what we do here.” Everyone agreed with him
immediately that it was a wonderful idea, that they looked forward
to working with me in the future, that I was clearly a very shrewd
businesswoman; I almost laughed and spoiled the whole story,
thinking to myself that the people I worked with at the law firm
would be shocked to see me touted as some titan of enterprise. I
have always been an intelligent person—legal secretaries need a
variety of skills and quick wits to survive—but I would never have
considered myself fit to run an entire business on my own.
     
    We made our way up
through the building slowly; I took in the sight of the
departments, everything running like a well-oiled machine, the
outfits of the employees becoming more sleekly professional, more
obviously expensive, the higher up we went. It was easy to see that
distance from the ground equated to rank in this office—the upper
floors were peopled by fewer employees, and more offices than
cubicle farms, as opposed to the lower floors. My feet were killing
me by the time we were halfway through the tour, but I kept my
complaints to myself, keeping my face a mask of polite and
intelligent interest whenever we were in front of anyone.
     
    It would have been
easier to maintain my composure; but the private elevator we
took—Krystopher’s own elevator, accessible only to him and people
with sufficiently high security clearance—gave my Master the
opportunity of reaching up under my skirt between floors, rubbing
me quickly as I got wetter and wetter. When we were in office
territory, he acted utterly polite and friendly to me, as if I were
indeed a wealthy associate; but when we were alone, he
couldn’t—wouldn’t—keep his hands off of me. He nipped sharply at my
neck, reaching out blindly at one point to stop the elevator to
give himself a few more minutes alone to torture me. “This tour
isn’t just for you to learn about my company,” he murmured as I
suppressed a moan at the feeling of his fingers slipping against my
slick labia. “It’s also part of your training. I expect that when
we’re in front of anyone, you’ll be absolutely composed and on
point. You must learn to keep yourself utterly